The Rise of the Phoenix
"Give it to me, Sophie," Mark hissed, stepping into the vault with a flashlight. "You’re a waitress. 
You don't know what to do with a Diversified Investment Portfolio. Give me the ledger, and I’ll let you walk away with enough to live on." I smiled, and for the first time in ten years, I felt truly powerful.
I held up the burner phone. "It's too late, Mark. The Federal Trade Commission has been listening for the last twenty minutes."
Outside, the quiet street erupted into a symphony of sirens. Blue and red lights reflected off the bakery’s dusty windows.
Mark tried to run, but he was met by a team of Federal Agents at the top of the stairs. As they handcuffed him, I walked over and handed the lead agent the leather-bound ledger. "You’ll find the Asset Laundering records on page 42," I said calmly.
Evelyn and Julian were arrested an hour later at their mansion. Their Bank Accounts were frozen, and their properties were seized under the RICO Act. As I stood in the middle of my "debt-ridden" bakery, the lawyer from the will reading appeared. He wasn't smirking anymore. He bowed deeply and handed me a new set of keys. "The bakery is free of all liens, Ms. Fairchild," he said, using my real name. "And the Trust Fund is now fully under your control. It’s valued at $450 million."
Today, the Sunshine Bakery is the most famous spot in the city. Not just for its bread, but because it’s the headquarters of the Fairchild Justice Foundation. I still bake every morning, the rusted key hanging around my neck. It reminds me that some things—like the truth—need to be kneaded and proved before they can rise.
Comments (0)
Leave a Comment